


Here In The Garden

by sleepy_sphinx



Series: The Garden AU [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: (not super graphic violence but it is there), Angst, Child! Remus, Child! Roman, Creativitwins, Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders- centric, Dadceit, Death, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Imprisonment, Isolation, Patton Ruins Everything, Post-Creativity Split, Remus Sanders angst, Song: Drift Away, Stabbing, Suicidal Thoughts, Sympathetic Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Sympathetic Deceit Sanders, Unsympathetic Morality | Patton Sanders, Villain Morality | Patton Sanders, Violence, again it's not that intense but it's there, dark side family, death thoughts, inspired by a song, mostly angst, oh no it got angsty, platonic demus, stay safe y'all!, wholesome sibling relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2020-12-07 18:17:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20980280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepy_sphinx/pseuds/sleepy_sphinx
Summary: After a mysterious accident leaves Creativity with amnesia, he is taken to his very own garden by Morality. It's a beautiful place, filled with wonder and magic, and only one rule– Creativity can't leave the garden under any circumstances until Morality gets back. But Creativity isn't afraid– the garden is fun, and there are so many secrets to explore! Besides, it's not like he'll be here forever...Morality wouldn't leave him here......Right?((Inspired by the song "Drift Away" from Steven Universe, get ready for some angst~))





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so I know I'm definitely not the only person to draw a parallel between Remus and Spinel, but after listening to Drift Away for three hours on loop, i really wanted to write something. and it turns out writing unsympathetic Patton is.... weirdly fun? anywho, this is also my first time writing actual angst (even though it takes a while to reallllly kick in) so hopefully it will be good! enjoy!

_ Here in the garden, _

_ Let’s play a game, _

_ I’ll show you how it’s done... _

_ Here in the garden _

_ Stand very still, _

_ ‘This’ll be so much fun!’ _

Creativity woke up slowly. His cheek was pressed against something soft and warm, kinda like a pillow. But there was a steady _ thump-thump-thump _ coming from the soft object, which, while very interesting, was not typical pillow behavior. Creativity blinked his eyes open, taking in the very bright blueness that surrounded him. Soft and blue… he knew who was soft and blue! The young side tilted his head up, a soft smile creeping across his face. “Hey, Mo.”

Morality looked down at the smaller side currently nestled against his chest. “Good morning, kiddo!” He said, his voice as bright as the sun. “Gee, you sure did sleep for a while there!” Then Morality’s expression changed a bit, growing a bit more pensive. “How… how much do you remember, kiddo?” 

Creativity blinked a bit. He felt disoriented, and his mind was still making the transition from sleep to awake. He absentmindedly fidgeted with the corner of his rainbow sash as he contemplated Morality’s question. “How much do I remember...” 

Creativity inhaled a little bit as his mind slipped backwards into… well… what _ had _ happened? He had been… doing… something? Arguing with someone. Or fighting. He had been filled with adrenaline and anger and fear, and then… 

“I… I remember this… this really bad hurt. It felt worse than a million papercuts! It felt like– like being split down the middle with a huge meat cleaver!” Creativity squeaked, the drowsiness gone from his voice. 

Morality’s gaze darkened, and Creativity pulled back apprehensively. “S-sorry, Morality… that was one of my bad thoughts, wasn’t it?” 

“That’s ok, kiddo,” Morality said rigidly, before pulling on another too-bright grin. Even with the smile, Creativity noticed that Morality looked really tired. And although the older side could be annoying, and Creativity didn’t necessarily agree with his idea of “bad thoughts”, he never wanted to see Morality upset! So Creativity did his best to change the subject– after all, it was never good to dwell on bad thoughts. 

Searching for another topic of conversation, Creativity let his gaze wander from Morality’s face to a large, blue flower that hung from a vine just over his shoulder. Creativity tilted his head, his eyes widening as the flower began to twirl and emit a strange blue light, like some sort of magical pinwheel. As he reached out to touch it, the petals flew off the flower and swirled all around the two sides in a wonderful mini-tornado before settling to the floor. 

A smile formed on Creativity’s face as he pushed himself off of Morality’s lap and stood up. He could feel any lingering fatigue melting away as he took in the rest of his surroundings. “What is this place? It’s incredible!” 

Morality’s smile looked a little more genuine as he replied, “This is your garden, Creativity. I made it especially for you!”

Excitement building, Creativity scanned his surroundings. Huge trees formed a ring around the perimeter of the little clearing they were in, with leaves that shimmered in all sorts of colors and strong, sturdy branches that were built for climbing. Brightly colored flowers in all shapes and sizes grew in clustered groups in the emerald-green grass and swayed gently in the wind. A path of shining silvery pebbles twisted its way through the garden ahead of him and out of sight in the trees, practically _ begging _ to be followed.

Creativity let out an awe-filled gasp before turning back to Morality, who sat on a silver bench underneath one of the taller trees. “Thanks so so much!” 

Morality glanced downwards. “Oh, it’s, uh, no problem, kiddo…” He sounded sad– or maybe even a little guilty– but Creativity barely noticed, because he was already running down the silver path. He shrieked in excitement and lept high in the air, feeling perfectly free. 

“Creativity, wait! Don’t– Creativity! Stop running!” Morality called after him, sounding exasperated. But Creativity didn’t feel like waiting. This was his garden after all– Morality had said so! And even though Morality looked older, it wasn’t like he was a _ real _ adult. Creativity didn’t have to listen to him. He didn’t have to listen to anyone! Creativity began to speed up, enjoying his new freedom. 

Soon, though, Creativity heard the other side running down the path after him. Thinking quickly, Creativity turned on a dime and began to scramble up a nearby tree. The young side curled up in the branches like a cat, making sure to hide between the shimmering leaves. He suppressed a giggle as he saw Morality jog up the path behind him. At first, he looked so mad that Creativity felt guilt course through him like an electric current. But Morality quickly stopped, took a deep breath in, and muttered something to himself about “–only a few more minutes–”. His pleasant demeanor returned almost immediately. “Creativity, kiddo, why don’t you–”

“You called?” Creativity flipped out of the tree, hanging from his knees so that the entire world looked upside-down. He had shapeshifted his face so that it looked extra frightening– his skin was ashy and gray, some blood leaked from his mouth, and one of his eyes popped out of its socket and swung like a pendulum from a fleshy pink cord. 

Morality yelped and took a huge step back, his terror quickly morphing into anger when he saw Creativity’s new look. “STOP DOING THAT, YOU LITTLE–”

Morality was able to cut himself off before he finished his statement, but Creativity had gotten the message. Silent with a newfound fear, he shapeshifted back and quickly dropped to the floor of the forest. 

“I’m– I’m sorry for yelling at you, Creativity,” Morality sighed, his voice both soft and a little sour. “But I need to tell you something important, ok? So you have to try your best to listen and be quiet, and then you can spend the rest of your life exploring the garden if you want.”

Creativity wasn’t sure if he wanted to spend the rest of his entire life here– after all, it would certainly get boring after a while. But he knew from Morality’s… _ odd _ behavior that this was serious business, so he simply nodded. 

“Ok,” Morality breathed in, and once again his anger seemed to evaporate right off his face. It was almost scary how easily he could change his emotions– like he had a stockpile of Halloween masks with different expressions that he switched on and off when no one was looking. And maybe the real reason he wore them was because his face was some sort of horrible, mutilated–

“Are you listening, Creativity?”

Creativity blinked, feeling his cheeks warm up. “Uh… maybe?”

Morality’s smile tightened, but he was able to keep the happy mask on. “That’s ok. I’ll just repeat myself. What happened this morning was… There was a monster. A really big, really scary monster. And it attacked you– that’s how you got hurt. And, well… I was able to get you here, to safety, but it’s still out there.”

Creativity tilted his head, filling with a morbid curiosity. “A monster? What kind?”

“I’m– I’m not sure, a really dangerous kind–”

“Well, what did it look like? Do you think it ate my memories or something?” Creativity began to bounce up and down. A garden was cool, but a real-life monster? “Maybe we could fight it again and find a weakness– what kinda sword do you think would be better?”

“It doesn’t matter! You are not going out there again! It’s too dangerous!” Morality shouted, his voice close to breaking. Creativity wanted to retort, but seeing the anger and fear in Morality’s eyes made him hesitate. If Morality was really that scared of whatever was out there, maybe it _ was _ too dangerous… 

“I really don’t want you in danger again– or worse, Thomas somehow getting hurt by all this.” Morality continued, looking Creativity straight in the eyes. “So, just for the time being, I’m going to need you to stay here, where it’s safe. Okay?” 

“But–”

“No buts, Creativity. This is _ really _ serious. You have to promise not to leave until I come get you, okay? No matter how long it seems. Just stay here, and everything will be alright. Do you promise?”

“Um…” That was a hard thing to promise. Creativity already didn’t like how many times Morality had said the word serious– Logic had once yelled that he was the exact opposite of serious, and Creativity had taken it as a compliment. But Morality seemed really upset. Creativity didn’t want Morality to be upset. He wanted Morality to be happy! And besides, it’s not like Morality would forget about him here. He could trust him. “Uh…okay then!” 

Creativity glanced around the forest, seeing it in a new light now that he was stuck here for… well, he didn’t actually know how long. But it didn’t seem like a bad place to spend a day! Or a week! Or– or maybe a thousand years? Maybe he’d fall asleep under a tree, like Rip Van Winkle or something… the thought both terrified and excited the young Creativity, filling him with buzzing energy. 

“Ok then,” Morality repeated. He looked relieved, although unshed tears still hung in his eyes. “Alright. Well… Goodbye, Creativity.” Morality snapped his fingers, and a blue door appeared in the path in front of the two sides. Morality pulled open the door extremely quickly, as though he was running to escape a monster instead of heading straight towards one. He was practically gone by the time Creativity returned, “Bye, Morality! Don’t miss me too much!” 

The only response was a soft clicking noise as the door locked. _ To keep the monster out, _ Creativity thought. _ Smart. _He would have liked to congratulate Morality on the good idea, but the door was already shimmering and disappearing into thin air. Soon, it was gone completely. 

Soon, Creativity was alone. 

_ And then she smiled, _

_ That’s what I’m after, _

_ The smile in her eyes _

_ The sound of her laughter _

_ Happy to listen, _

_ Happy to play, _

_ Happily watching her _

_ Drift Away. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm not entirely sure when the next chapter is coming out, because school and youtube have burgled all of my free time (which is also why this is kinda short)... but hopefully, it'll be released soon! Anywho have an amazing day, and thanks for reading!!!  
~Alice


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Sorry this took so long to publish, it was a lot longer than expected and also School is Hard. But it also turned out really fluffy and cute so enjoy that!!! seriously. enjoy it. it's not gonna last.

_ Happily waiting, _

_ All on my own, _

_ Under the endless sky, _

_ Counting the seconds, _

_ Standing alone, _

_ As thousands of years go by…  _

Creativity loved his garden– really, he did. Morality must have worked hard on it, because everything was so beautiful and intricate and detailed… Creativity had to remember to ask him how he made it when he came back! But until then, the young side was determined to have a good time exploring his new domain. The silver path was a good guide at first, leading him to all of the important landmarks– a pretty silver fountain that constantly ran with cool, clean water, a large stone that jutted out from the ground like Pride Rock, a cluster of mushrooms big enough to bounce on, and a huge tree with a hollowed-out trunk big enough for Creativity to make a kind of makeshift room. But soon following the path again and again became far too repetitive, and soon Creativity felt the exciting and familiar urge to wander off the trail. This lead to a plethora of other discoveries– an old gazebo that had been taken over by vines, a fairy circle that Creativity was still a bit too cowardly to stand in, a stone that held what looked like the hilt of a sword (which Creativity couldn’t dislodge, no matter how hard he tugged), and an entire chain of tunnels and caverns that was illuminated by strange, glowing crystals. Creativity had an amazing time exploring and playing, climbing and conquering, collecting lovely little trinkets to store in his tree. 

Eventually, Creativity had been to every inch of the garden, which was no small feat– it was really more of a forest than a garden, except forests don’t have twelve-foot tall periwinkle walls surrounding the exterior. And after tracing and retracing his steps so much that he knew the garden like the back of his hand, Creativity could verify that the garden was beautiful. And magical. And altogether amazing. And… well… kinda boring, after a while. 

Creativity knew it was awful to think things like that– Morality had done an amazing job creating the garden, especially on such short notice, and Creativity was obviously just being picky. But still, the garden’s calm safeness was beginning to drive him a little crazy. Nothing happened. Nothing changed. There were some days Creativity felt like he would die of boredom. 

But hey, he was Creativity! It wasn’t like he couldn’t keep himself entertained! 

At first, Creativity tried to summon something to amuse himself, but it didn’t seem to be working for… whatever reason. Maybe it had something to do with the monster attack, or his missing memories. He would have liked to ask Morality or Logic about it, but he couldn’t even summon his sword, let alone another side! And it’s not like he could leave the garden to go find them… 

Fortunately, just because his summoning spell wasn’t working didn’t make him completely powerless. He could still levitate and control other objects– sloppily at first, but over time he became shockingly efficient. Creativity discovered his ability to create “living” creatures out of things he found in the world around him. (That was another weird thing about the garden– there were no animals, not even tiny bugs. Now that Creativity was thinking about it, it was a little lonely…). They were almost like puppets, made of wood and leaves and all the other natural scraps of materials Creativity found in the garden. He liked to stage little scenes with them, have them fight, or dance, or explore with him, or… ok, maybe they mainly fought. Watching two of his intricate creations almost destroy each other was just… so satisfying! Besides, the best part of any story was the conflict.

A shark made of blue petals with sharp crystal shards as teeth lunged through the water, snapping its jaws at one of the mossy Kraken's limbs. The (ironically miniature) giant octopus whirled its legs away, darting them through the water and splashing Creativity in the face with tiny droplets. Undeterred, Creativity leaned in closer to the fountain, enthralled in the tiny aquatic battle. He wasn’t quite sure who he was rooting for… On one hand, the shark had taken him a really long time to complete, and finding crystal shards sharp and small enough to serve as teeth had been hard work! But he had an unusual fondness for the Kraken, especially the weird wiggly way it moved. The Kraken was wickedly fast and kept darting its tentacles dangerously close to the shark’s mouth. Creativity tilted his head, transfixed. 

Suddenly, with a powerful fluid, the Kraken lurched its tentacle into the shark’s jaws and emerged barely a millisecond later with one of the shark’s teeth. Angered, the shark charged again, but the Kraken ducked under, and then–  _ slash! _ – sliced the shark’s underbelly wide open. 

Creativity squealed in delight. The shark thrashed about a bit as ruby-red rose petals flew out of its stomach and floated to the surface of the water. Eventually, the entire puppet collapsed into a pile of petals and twigs. The colorful petals drifting serenely in the fountain’s still water was a huge contrast to the raging battle that had taken place just seconds before. Even the Kraken seemed to calm down, its many limbs floating limply around its body. Creativity stuck his hand in the water, allowing the small thing to crawl into his palm and up his arm. It made a sound halfway between a gurgle and a purr as it clambered up Creativity’s chest and under his sash, still gripping one of the shark’s teeth. Not wanting to waste good building materials, Creativity stuck his hands into the petal-filled water and felt around the bottom of the fountain for the rest of the crystal shards. 

Suddenly, something sharp sliced Creativity’s palm. The young side yelped and quickly withdrew his hand, which was beginning to bead up with crimson blood. Creativity blinked. The crystals weren’t  _ that _ sharp! He swirled his not-injured hand through the water, clearing away the petals that were obscuring his view of the fountain’s bottom. His reflection stared back at him, through a diamond-shaped mirror with edges as sharp as a knife.  _ That hadn’t been there before…  _

Creativity took a minute to gaze at his reflection– his silver-gray uniform was crumpled and covered in dirt, leaves and twigs were stuck in his hair, and his rainbow sash was so crooked it was practically a belt. Creativity grinned mischievously. He looked like some sort of wild forest spirit! Still, though, that mirror looked pretty cool. It would be a nice addition to his room. 

Careful not to cut himself this time, Creativity scooped the mirror up and examined it. It was made of a weird, smooth material, tinted a bit reddish except for the very center, where a green emerald was inlaid. Creativity instinctively touched the gem with his injured hand, no longer caring about the tiny cut. A green glow began to surround the gem and ripple throughout the mirror, growing brighter by the second.  _ Maybe I have magic blood?  _ Creativity thought, mystified, until the glow became so bright that he had to squeeze his eyes shut.

Eventually, the glow subsided, and Creativity blinked open his eyes. Another pair of eyes stared back at him through the mirror. A pair that, while strangely familiar, certainly did  _ not _ belong to his reflection. 

“Who are you?” The not-reflection wondered at the same time Creativity asked: “Are you a monster?”

The not-reflection was a young boy, looking almost the same age as Thomas, with a white uniform and red sash that mirrored Creativity’s– although his was smooth and clean and not at all crooked. From what Creativity could see, he was seated on a rose-colored bed, with huge, fluffy pillows behind him. He looked confused, although Creativity’s query about the monster made him crack a small smile. “No,” He replied, “I’m a prince! I fight monsters!” 

Creativity gasped and immediately pressed his face closer to the mirror. “You’re a prince? That’s so cool!” The young side suddenly became hyper-aware of how much of a mess he was and tried to brush the twigs out of his tangled hair.

Instead of looking prideful, though, the prince glanced downwards bashfully. “Well… not really,” He admitted. “I’m… this is gonna sound kinda weird, but I’m Creativity. Specifically, Thomas’s Creativity! I just like to pretend I’m a prince.” 

Creativity narrowed his eyes. “But…  _ I’m _ Thomas’s Creativity.” 

The prince’s smile fell, morphing into a little circle of confusion. “Well… there can’t be two Creativities! That wouldn’t make any sense!”

“Well, I don’t know who you really are, but I know  _ I’m _ Creativity.” Creativity huffed. 

The two kids sat in contemplation. Suddenly, the prince snapped his fingers. 

“If I wasn’t Creativity, could I do  _ this? _ ” He waved his hand enthusiastically through the air, and a shining, slender sword shimmered into existence. The prince sliced the sword through the air before pointing it at the mirror, a cocky expression on his face. 

Creativity held back a jealous hiss. He hadn’t been able to summon anything out of thin air like that since entering the garden, and he had been in the garden for… well… a while. He hadn’t really been keeping track of time. For a brief second, he felt a weird fear– what if the reason he couldn’t summon was that the prince was right, and he  _ wasn’t  _ Thomas’s Creativity? What would that make him?– But he soon realized he was being ridiculous. Of  _ course _ he was Creativity. And he had a much cooler sword, anyway!

Creativity scrunched his face and held his hand out. He concentrated hard on the sword he had created, using one of the larger, glowing crystals and a conveniently curvy branch for the hilt, all tied together with a dark green vine. Sure enough, the sword soon flew out of the trees and into his waiting palm, not unlike Thor’s hammer. Creativity twirled the sword once like a baton, before mirroring the prince’s attack. “How about  _ that? _ ”

The prince looked impressed, and seemed to be reevaluating the coolness of his own weapon. Creativity took this opportunity to add on, “And that’s not all I have in store!” 

Creativity propped the mirror up against the side of the fountain and kneeled in front of it. He carefully pulled the Kraken out from the little nook it had been hiding in and displayed it for the prince to see. The small creature seemed annoyed at being taken out of its shadowy dwelling and brandished its crystal threateningly.

The prince gasped. “That’s so cool! It’s– what, an octopus made of moss?”

“A Kraken, actually,” Remus said matter-of-factly. 

“Wait– but aren’t Krakens monsters, though? And why’s it so small?” 

Creativity didn’t want to admit that he couldn’t find enough moss to make a life-sized Kraken, so instead, he made something up. “This one’s a baby. And babies aren’t evil, their babies. Besides, not all monsters are  _ necessarily _ bad, just some of them.” 

The prince grinned. “Cool! Well, that’s definitely a Creative idea! And the mossiness is really amazing, too!” 

Creativity felt his chest swell with pride. “Yeah, but… your sword is so awesome!” He said enthusiastically, trying to sound modest. 

The prince blushed. “Heh, thanks… I’m just still confused as to how–” Suddenly he got a bright look in his eyes. A look of realization, Creativity realized. The prince facepalmed, shouting “Oh duh! Wow, I’m an idiot!”

“What? What is it?” Creativity asked urgently.

The prince smiled. “It’s obvious, really. How there are two Creativities? It’s because this mirror thing is an alternate-dimensional portal! Just like Alice in Wonderland! Hey, it even has a looking glass! Ugh, why didn’t I get this before?” 

“That… makes total sense!” Creativity smiled, glad the conflict had been resolved. He was starting to like this other Creativity, and he didn’t want to keep fighting. “You’re really smart!”

The prince smiled. “Thanks a lot–”

“Creativity! Time for lunch!” A chipper voice called from behind the prince. Creativity froze. 

The prince didn’t seem to notice. He looked sheepishly downwards. “I gotta run– Mo hates it when I skip meals. See you later, ok?” Before Creativity could respond, the prince pressed the center gem, and the mirror shimmered red again before shifting back to reflect Creativity’s own, stunned expression. 

That voice…. It sounded just like Morality. 

Creativity’s blood turned to ice. What was Morality doing? He sounded fine, he sounded… happy, not at all like someone who was fighting a monster. What if… what if the monster had hurt him in some way? What if he had taken Morality’s memories? What if–– what if Morality had forgotten about  _ him _ ? What if he was stuck waiting here forever and ever and no one even missed him because they had all forgotten–

Creativity took a deep breath in.  _ No.  _ He was being silly. Morality was strong, and so were Logic and Deceit. They would be able to fight off anything that came their way– it might just take a little while! Besides, it obviously wasn’t  _ his _ Morality on the other side of the mirror, it was some sort of alternate-dimension-Morality. Mirror Morality? That kinda made him think of Other Mother from one of his favorite movies, Coraline. Creativity smiled and wiped his eyes, soaking up tears he didn’t really register he had cried. At least his eyes weren’t buttons… 

Creativity imagined what it would feel like to have his eyes sewn over with buttons, and soon enough his thoughts had wandered far away from the temporary panic. 

True to his word, Other Creativity came back the next day (Creativity was both relieved and a bit disappointed to learn that it wasn’t his blood that activated the magic mirror, but the crystal in the center). To avoid the confusion that came with having the exact same name, the two decided to pick out actual, human names for themselves. The prince’s Thomas was currently partaking in a bit of a mythology phase, so the prince suggested they give themselves a legendary namesake. “And they should be twins,” Creativity had added, “Because we’re basically twins, right? Brothers from another multiverse.” 

Other Creativity giggled. “Yeah! Ok, uh, mythological twins…”

“Artemis and Apollo?” Creativity suggested. “They had that one myth where they kill people with the arrows, that was pretty cool!”

The prince seemed to consider this, but soon shook his head. “Nah. Naming yourself after a god is probably hubris. And hubris is normally what gets people killed in these kinds of stories– that’s what Logic says, anywho.”

Creativity nodded like he knew what the word hubris meant. 

“What about Castor and Pollux?” Other Creativity countered. 

“I’ve never heard of them. What did they do?”

“They, uh… they became a constellation, I think–”

Creativity yawned dramatically. “Come on, there’s gotta be a set of twins cooler than  _ that _ . Like–Oh!” Creativity suddenly got excited, and started snapping his fingers as if trying to remember a particularly elusive word– “You know! The twins who were raised by wolves, and founded Rome? Those guys? What were there  _ names– _ ”

“You mean Romulus and Remus?” Other Creativity asked.

“Yeah, them!” Creativity added. “They were pretty awesome!”

Creativity’s brow furrowed. “Yeah, but… Romulus kills Remus in the myth.” 

“Yeah, that’s the cool part! That and the wolf–”

“I don’t want to be named after someone who gets killed by his brother!” Other Creativity protested.

Creativity shrugged. “I’ll be Remus, then.” 

“Being a murderer isn’t much better!”

“But I  _ like _ the name Remus.” Creativity folded his arms. 

“Ok, well… I can be Roman? That way, the names are still linked.  _ Roman _ sounds regal, right?”

“The regalist!” Creativity– no,  _ Remus _ – said enthusiastically. Then he bowed with an overexaggerated flourish. “A pleasure to meet you,  _ Prince Roman. _ ” 

Roman grinned and returned the bow. “The pleasure is mine, Remus.” The fake cordiality lasted for a few seconds, before the two boys erupted into a fit of giggles. 

Roman and Remus met up almost every day after that. The two seemed a natural fit for each other– when Remus was talking with the prince, it was almost like he was talking to himself. That’s not to say it was boring– quite the opposite! Roman and Remus swapped stories, both real and imagined. Remus told Roman about Morality and the monster, which he decided to describe in his story like a combination of manticore and a chimera, the two weirdest mythical creatures he could think of (he had thought about throwing in a jackalope, but they were just too darn cute!). The prince seemed fascinated by the whole ordeal, which made Remus feel all kinds of warm inside. 

And hearing Roman’s stories was a whole different but equally nice feeling. The prince’s life wasn’t nearly as exciting as Remus’– he still lived in his own side commons, with his fellow sides Morality and Logic. He didn’t have any monsters in his stories, but he did mention that there were “bad sides” that liked to cause trouble that Morality was always fending off. 

Of course, the real stories were nothing compared to the fantasies they created together. They created wonderful tales of kings and demons, monsters and mermaids, cannibalistic fairies and adorable ogre families. The prince always wanted to put in a prince, and for some reason, always wanted him to rescue a princess. “But that sounds so boring!” Remus complained. “Why would he rescue some stupid princess when he could be…. I don’t know… aboard a pirate ship?”

Roman simply shrugged. “I don’t know, it’s just what prince’s do. You know, ‘True Love’s Kiss’ and all that.” His tone was unsure, though, so Remus was fairly certain he didn’t agree either. Still, Roman continued; “The pirates were a good idea though, actually! Maybe the princess gets captured by pirates and held for ransom, so the prince has to find some secret, hidden treasure to bribe them into freeing her!”

“OOH! OOH!” Remus said, bouncing up and down. “THE TREASURE IS GUARDED BY A KRAKEN!”

Roman nodded, scribbling it down onto a parchment with a red feather quill that was tipped with gold. It was agreed that Roman would write down all of their ideas, as he was the only one with access to proper writing utensils. Because he could summon them at will. The reminder sobered Remus up a little, and he began to fidget with the ripped-up hem of his sash. 

Roman glanced up from his parchment, tilting his head in confusion when he saw Remus. “Are you ok?” He asked, sounding concerned.

“Yeah, fine,” Remus lied. There was a bit of dirt that was smudged on the orange stripe of his sash, and he was determined to get it out. Of course, this would be an easier task if he just had soap or water… or the ability to magically refresh his appearance at will. Remus scowled and began to rub harder. 

“...You sure?” The prince put his hand against the side of the mirror. “Did– did I do something wrong?”

Remus glanced up sharply. “What? No. You never do anything wrong.” Remus had meant to be comforting, but the words came out bitter. He winced at the same time the prince did and muttered “Sorry.”

Roman bit his lip. “You can talk to me, you know,” He said, using a soft voice. “Is this about summoning again?”

Remus shrugged. “I don’t mean to be jealous. I’m just… I’m tired of being so powerless. I mean, I know I’m here for my own good, but I just feel so trapped sometimes. Like I’m all alone in a cage, and there’s nothing I can do to get out.” 

Roman smiled sympathetically. “But you’re not powerless, though! You make those amazing puppets all on your own– I doubt I could ever do that. And you come up with so many wonderful, unique ideas!” 

Despite himself, Remus began to blush. “You really think so?”

Roman simply scoffed. “I know so.” 

“You sounded like Logic just then.”

The prince laughed, an airy giggle that made Creativity smile wider. He watched as the prince summoned a pair of glasses onto his face and said in a low, mocking voice: “There’s another thing you’re wrong about, Remus.”

Creativity suppressed a laugh. “Oh, all-knowing Logic, whatever could that be?” He mocked.

Roman took off the glasses, becoming serious. “You’re not alone,” He stated simply. “You’ve got me. We’re best friends. So I’ll always be there for you, and you’ll always be there for me.” 

“I… I guess you’re right. Thanks, Roman”

The two sat in comfortable silence for a while before Roman slammed his hand down on his desk, startling Remus. 

“Jeez, are you ok, Ro?”

Roman’s eyes were narrowed with determination. “I’ve just decided. I’ve had enough of you being stuck like that. So I’m gonna rescue you.”

Remus tilted his head. “Oh, so I’m your princess now?”

The prince gasped. “What? Ewwwww, no! That’s gross! You’re like, my brother or something, right? I can’t kiss you!”

Remus laughed. “I was just joking, obviously. You know, playing along…”

Roman huffed. “Well, I wasn’t joking. I’m gonna find a way to rescue you! If this mirror exists, there must be a way to get to the other side! Maybe Logan knows something about it, he’s super smart… And then we can fight the monster together! Or, I can at least keep you company!” 

“If you say so…” Remus said skeptically, although even he couldn’t keep a wide smile from his face. 

Roman was practically vibrating with excitement. “Ok, this is gonna be so great! I gotta go to sleep now, or Patton won’t let me hear the end of it, but tomorrow I’ll update you with any information I can find!”

“And I’ll let you know if someone else miraculously rescues me in that time.” Remus didn’t think either event was likely, and he didn’t really feel like getting his hopes up. Still, there was a small part of him that was already brimming with excitement. As pretty as the garden was… he wanted to leave! 

Roman nodded. “Right! Well, see you tomorrow!” 

The prince quickly tapped the mirror and Remus was once again faced with his reflection. He smiled and brushed some of his tangled-up hair out of his eyes, mulling over what Roman had said. It was nice to imagine Roman rescuing him, even if it probably wouldn’t happen. Even if the prince could somehow get to the other side of the mirror, there was still the issue of the monster that lurked outside. Remus’s head was suddenly filled with vibrant images of the prince getting absolutely  _ destroyed _ by the monster, coughing up scarlet blood the color of rubies as the monster’s claws raked into him– or worse, getting his own memories taken away and being forced to wander around a strange dimension forever and ever and–

Remus slammed a hand into his skull, letting the pain snap himself out of it. Those were  _ bad thoughts _ . He didn’t want to think about Roman getting hurt! He didn’t want to think about  _ anyone _ getting hurt (He briefly pictured what Morality’s expression would be if he knew about the monster fights and winced). But especially Roman. 

To take his mind off of the subject, Remus began gathering pieces for a monster puppet. He didn’t technically know what it looked like, but any way he could help Roman prepare would be useful! Also, he liked showing his work to someone else who was sure to shower it with praise. After all of the solitude of his garden, it was nice to not be alone. 

_ Happily wondering _

_ Night after night _

_ Is this how it works? _

_ Am I doing it right? _

_ Happy to listen _

_ Happy to stay _

_ Happily watching her  _

_ Drift Away. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks once again for reading! see you in chapter three, where everything goes wrong ;)  
~Alice


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, before we start, please know that i added some new trigger tags!!! this chapter contains some violence and suicidal thoughts from the pov character!!! I'm really sorry I didn't tag this earlier but I wasn't super planning ahead when I wrote this so please just note that and stay safe!!! I love all of you and thanks for reading once again!!!   
anyway now that that's out of the way,,,, who's ready to be sad??? yayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy

_ You keep on turning pages _

_ For people who don’t care _

_ People who don’t care _

_ About you… _

The garden was quiet. As there were no animals, the only sounds came from the soft, predictable patterns of nature– leaves brushing up against each other in the breeze, the calm, rushing sound of the fountain, and the occasional _thud _of a particularly large flower or fruit falling off of a tree. So when Remus excitedly pressed the gem in the center of the mirror, he was startled by the sudden loud and very unpleasant noise that shot out of it. It was so out of place that it took Remus a while to recognize the sound as sobbing. 

Remus’s brow furrowed with concern. “Roman? Are you ok? What’s wrong?” 

The mirror was tilted at a weird angle, as if it had been knocked askew on the wall. Remus could see Roman curled up in a ball on his bed near the top corner. The prince’s face was buried in his knees, and his shoulders shook with sobs. “No, no, no, no, no…” He rasped, his voice sounding small and broken. 

“Roman!” Remus yelled louder. “What happened?” 

Roman tilted his head up, finally looking towards the mirror. But instead of relief, Remus found only fury and fear in Roman’s puffy red eyes. 

“You…” He growled. “This… this is all your fault! You’re just like that stupid snake!” 

Remus’s heart plummeted towards the floor at the unexpected accusation. “Wh– what did I do? Roman–”

“SHUT UP!” Roman yelled, before burying his head in his hands once again and mumbling something that was too muffled to understand. 

Remus’ breath caught in his throat as the full force of Roman’s words hit him. But he hadn’t done anything wrong… had he? “Roman, if you don’t tell me what’s going on I can’t  _ help you– _ ”

“NO!” Roman shrieked. “YOU CAN’T HELP ME, I WON’T LISTEN! I’M NOT GONNA MESS UP AGAIN! I’M NOT GONNA GET SPLIT AGAIN!” 

“Split? What–” Remus began to ask, before he was cut off by a sudden bolt of energy that flew from the prince’s outstretched hand and straight towards the mirror. One second of pure instinct allowed Remus to step back before the red lightning hit the mirror straight in the center…

And then it shattered. 

Remus watched, stunned, as the pieces of glass flew around his room at top speeds. A few impaled themselves in his skin, but he barely noticed. All he could hear was the shattering sound playing over and over again on repeat in his brain. 

That, and Roman’s continual sobs. The mirror was still working, but the sounds were smaller and seemed to be coming from a dozen different places at once. “Not again… I’m not splitting again… it hurts, it hurts, and I won’t do it again, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…” The echoey, disjointed sounds got fainter and fainter until they faded away entirely. The gem on the floor (the only undamaged part of the mirror) had lost its green color and was now obsidian black. 

And then the garden was quiet again. So, so quiet… 

Remus wasn’t sure how much time passed before he unfroze. He blinked a few times and took a shaky breath in. 

“Okay… okayokayokayokayokayOKAY.” He said out loud, trying to comfort himself. “So Roman… hates me now, for some reason.” But it didn’t make sense. Remus hadn’t done anything wrong! Just yesterday, Roman had wanted to  _ rescue _ him, for crying out loud, and now–

Remus could feel his heart stop beating as he connected the dots.  _ The monster. _ The monster must have something to do with this. It must have hurt Roman somehow…  _ split _ him, whatever _ that _ meant. 

_ And it wouldn’t have happened if Roman hadn’t been trying to rescue  _ you _ , right? _

Remus whimpered and wiped some tears out of his eyes with his sleeve. Some of the wet blotches left there were tinted red (one of those stupid mirror shards must have gotten in his eye.  _ Typical. _ ), but that was the least of Remus’ concerns. He had caused this mess. Roman’s pain was his fault. 

_ Which means that it’s my job to fix it.  _

Remus took a shaky breath in. Let it out, slowly. Repeated the process a few times. Slowly regained his ability to think. To think of a plan. 

_ If Roman had gone out to fight the monster, _ Remus thought, the last of his sadness sharpening into cold, hard determination,  _ then so can I _ . And this time, he would win. 

But before he could even think about his combat strategy, he would have to get out of the garden. Remus winced, remembering Morality’s worried eyes and warning of ‘ _ Just stay here, and everything will be alright’  _ and the promise he was about to break. But Morality said that you should always put other people above yourself, right? So he would probably appreciate Remus running into danger to rescue his friend, and maybe even help him battle the beast! So it was probably fine, or so Remus told himself. Now that he had overcome  _ that _ mental block, the only issue remaining was actually getting himself out of the garden. 

Remus thought back to when he had last seen Morality– he wasn’t sure how long ago it was, but it felt like ages and ages. Still, he could remember with crystal clarity the bright blue door Morality had used to leave. Thinking hard, he manipulated the forest around him, summoning branches and light blue petals until an approximate model of the rectangle stood in front of him. Remus reached for the smooth stone handle and cautiously creaked it open, but predictably nothing happened. He huffed in annoyance.  _ Ok Remus, think…  _

Roman had once tried to teach him to conjure. The ordeal had ended in a rather immature rage-quit, but Remus could still remember the advice the prince gave him: 

_ “You have to picture the thing in your head, right? You picture everything about it– what it looks like, what it feels like, where you’ve seen it before, and why you're making it. And then it becomes so clear that you can kinda just… grab it and pull it out of your mind? I don’t know, it’s hard to explain. It helps to think of a time you’ve used it before, and try to pull it out of a memory.”  _

Remus had been a little annoyed, since he didn’t have any memories of a Furby with tentacles and thus the advice wasn't helpful at that moment. He did have plenty of memories of Morality, though. They were buried under layers of solo exploration, but they were definitely still there. Remus squeezed his eyes shut and began to remember… 

_ Morality has a blue shirt, softer than anything he could ever create. Morality laughs the most of all the sides, and it’s such a nice sound that you’ll do whatever it takes to hear it again and again. Morality loves to make jokes and puns and tells the same one over and over, but it never gets any less funny. Morality bakes cookies or brownies and sometimes even letting Creativity help out. Morality has a sunny smile that he flashes whenever you come up with a really good idea– sometimes he even hangs up your drawings on the fridge and ruffles your hair and you feel so special. Morality has a little frown that appears whenever he finds something he doesn’t like, and icy words that are said in a sweet, sweet voice as if that could somehow soften the blow. Morality just wants to help, and sometimes help can hurt. Morality sometimes doesn’t like to touch you, like your twisted thoughts might be contagious, and you know he sometimes sneaks into your room and steals away the bad ideas you work so hard on. Because he’s trying to help, of course. And then you do well again, really well, and the sun rises once more and it’s back to cuddles and cookies and soft blankets that smell like sugary snacks just like Morality does and, most importantly, the wonderful feeling that you did  _ good _ .  _

Remus suddenly felt something teetering at the edge of his senses. It wasn’t really a shape, more of a sensation. The creative side squeezed his eyes shut and focused on the feeling, trying to tug at it with all of his might. It was terrifically difficult, though. If he had been really pulling at something, instead of just metaphysically, he probably would have dislocated both of his shoulders ten times over. Remus clenched his teeth and tugged harder.  _ Almost, almost, almost– _

The tension dissipated quickly, with a loud pop that rang through the forest like a gunshot. Remus collapsed to the ground, exhausted but relieved. He was breathing hard, and his heart thumped in his chest so violently that he was sure it was about to burst its way out. But it was worth it because the door was there. It stood right in front of him where the fake door had once been. A smile slid onto Remus’s face.  _ He had done it.  _

Excited, Remus popped up and immediately had to lean against the door for support. Wow, he was dizzy! But that didn’t matter, because now he could ask Morality and the others for help. They could help him with his dizziness, and then help Roman, and maybe even make it easier for him to use his powers! Remus fumbled around a bit with the door handle– it wasn’t locked, thank goodness– and stumbled into Morality’s room. 

The first thing Remus felt as he entered the room was a sudden burst of energy. His dizziness disappeared at the drop of a hat, and he could stand up much straighter. The world around him looked a lot sharper, too– even Morality’s sepia-tinted realm seemed much more real. It was like he had just woken up from a very long and very restful dream, and he was now in the waking world. Remus let out a long sigh of relief. He felt  _ free _ . 

A sudden loud inhale caught Remus’s attention. He matched it with another equally intense gasp because it was  _ Morality _ . And maybe Remus knew that logically Morality would be here (it was his room, after all) but he hadn’t quite prepared for the  _ emotions  _ that would come with seeing him again. Before he really knew what he was doing, he was clinging to the Moral side like a shipwrecked sailor clings to driftwood. He was so much softer than Remus remembered…

And then it was done and over with, and two large hands made contact with his chest and pushed him back into the ocean. Remus stumbled backward. 

“M– Morality?”

The fatherly side fixed Remus with a disgusted glare. “What are _ you _ doing here? And why on earth are you  _ bleeding? _ ” 

Remus blinked, suddenly remembering the shards of glass that had flown into his eye. “Oh. Right. Uh, you don’t need to worry, I’m fine, but–” 

Morality wasn’t listening– he instead took a quick step forward and quickly plucked the shard out, causing another jolt of pain to rush through Remus’ head. Before he could even yell out, however, Morality passed a hand over the other side’s eye, and the hurt was immediately replaced with a warm tingling sensation. “There. All healed.” Morality said dryly, still wearing a scowl on his face. “Now, I have some very important things to deal with, so if you could just go back into your c– _ garden _ and stay there this time, that would be amazing–”

“I will, I will but I need your help first!” Remus began to talk very quickly, to make sure Morality heard what was wrong before he was sent back to the garden. “So I have this friend named Roman, and I think he might be in trouble–”

Morality cut him off with a humorless smirk. “Oh, you’ve got  _ that _ right, at least.” 

Remus growled. “You’re not listening! He was crying, he said someone tried to  _ split _ him, and I think–” 

“Look,  _ kiddo _ , I really don’t have time for this right now. I already have Deceit to deal with, and this new side, and now Logan is acting up, I can’t keep dealing with–”

“I THINK IT HAS SOMETHING TO DO WITH THE MONSTER!” Remus shouted, accidentally amplifying his voice with some weird echoey effect (he didn’t know he could do that… but it wasn’t something he was going to dwell on at that moment). Morality stared at him, stunned into silence.  _ Finally, FINALLY, he understood what was at stake– _

And then Morality sighed, an irritated breath of air one would only use to address a petulant child and his silly delusions. “You still don’t get it, do you? I figured by now you would have caught on…”

“Caught on t-to what?” Remus didn’t like the way his voice wavered. Morality had some sort of angry smile on his face, and it was a little scary. 

“Then again, I actually figured you’d be long gone by now, so it really shows what I know! Because nothing’s ever easy, is it? Nothing’s ever–”

“Morality,” Remus interrupted. “Caught on to what?”

Morality fixed Remus with a cold stare. “It’s you,” He said simply. “You’re the monster.”

Remus froze. He swore he could  _ feel _ his heart stop beating when Morality said that, like it, too, was too shocked to handle the news. Remus couldn’t think, so it must have been some otherworldly force that compelled him to squeak out “What?” in a very small voice. 

“You’re the monster,” Morality repeated, and somehow it hurt  _ more _ the second time. He took a step forward, and Remus instinctively stepped back. “Roman is the good Creativity, but you? You’re just filling Thomas’s head with bad thoughts.”

_ The flowers turned into blood. The stories with less than happy endings. The visions of death and destruction… and loving every minute of it.  _

“No, no… that’s not true, it can’t be–”

“You’re hurting Roman. And worse, you’re hurting Thomas. Your ideas made him cry, you know that?” Even as he was describing it, Morality was tearing up a bit.  _ As if  _ he _ was the one being called a monster. _ “So you stay in the garden, where you can’t hurt anyone.” 

“St-stop it, I d-didn’t mean to hurt him, I  _ didn’t– _ ”

_ Roman and Morality and Thomas,  _ your _ Thomas, all crying and hurting because of you–  _

“If you really didn’t mean to, you would have stopped when I told you to– and don’t say I didn’t tell you to stop! Because I tried so, so hard with you, but you wouldn’t  _ listen _ !”

Remus squeezed his eyes shut to avoid looking at the tears streaming down Morality’s face. “Please stop…” He whimpered, taking another step backward. He felt something hard against his back. He was trapped–  _ again _ . There was nowhere to go. 

“You just– Thomas is such a good boy, and you just had to ruin all of it! It’s my job to make sure he stays good, stays safe, and you always, always ruined it, you’ve ruined  _ everything– _ ”

_ You’ve ruined everything, you’re hurting them all, you hurt your family and you hurt Thomas and everything is wrong and you’re wrong, you’re the monster, Remus, you’re the monster, YOU ARE– _

“SHUT UP! JUST STOP TALKING!” Remus screamed, throwing his hands in front of him. Something burst from outside of him and flew through the air, landing with a thunk a few feet away from him. Whatever it was, it felt  _ good _ , like when you finally get up to stretch your legs after one of those terribly long and terribly _ boring _ car rides. And for just a minute, he felt so wonderfully right that for just one millisecond he forgot about everything that had happened.  _ I can’t wait to tell R– _

A pained gasp shattered the illusion into a million pointed pieces.

Before he could stop himself, Remus opened his eyes. The first thing he noticed was the handle. It was pretty, dark green and carved to look like a tentacle was wrapped around it. The handle was attached to a rather sharp blade, shiny and smooth and partially buried in the flesh just above his collarbone. Buried in the–  _ oh no _ . 

Morality took another shaky breath in. Crimson blood was beginning to bead around the stab wound, a pretty color that shone brightly in the amber light. Morality tried to cover it with his hand, but the movement only made it worse. “You,” He gasped, “You  _ little– _ ”

But Remus wasn’t going to stick around for the reprimand. Because he had to get out of there, had to get away from the knife and the blood and the tears and the fact that it was  _ his fault, all his fault– _

Remus pushed past Morality and bolted for the door. He ran all the way back to his garden. But he somehow couldn’t outrun the fatigue that struck as soon as he entered the garden, or the smell of blood, or that wonderful, horrible, _ horrible _ sound and the smell of blood that followed him everywhere or the tears in his eyes that blurred his vision so that he couldn’t even see where he was going and suddenly something snagged his foot and he was falling, falling, falling… 

It was a miracle he didn’t shatter when he hit the ground. 

Remus wasn’t sure how long he cried for. An eternity, probably. So long that all the liquid in his body was probably drained out of his body, so hard that he was probably a shriveled-up raisin of a person when it was over. Which was a little funny, but it was also horrible, horrible, such a  _ bad thought _ – and that made sense, right? He was a monster. Monsters have bad thoughts. 

Remus’s crying slowly faded away. And then there was quiet. Silence. The sorrowful side slowly turned himself over, until he was lying on his back. He must have been lying there for a while, because the entire garden was withered and gray. Fading away, as it was. Remus smiled a little bit, a few final tears leaking out of his eyes. 

The garden was gonna fade all away, and it was gonna take him with it. 

This was, of course, for the best. He knew that Morality was right about him. He was a monster.  _ The _ monster, in fact. Remus remembered with a cruel sense of amusement how Roman had mentioned fighting monsters the first time they met. At least his death (did it really count as dying if you were never alive in the first place?) would make the prince’s life easier. 

Tendrils of white fog began to trace their way through the garden like snakes made of mist slithering towards him. Remus imagined that they were made of acid, and that they would melt his flesh off when they reached him. When they only made him feel slightly cold and damp, he felt a bit disappointed. Acid would have been cool– and at this point, it wasn’t even worth chastising himself for thinking something so bad, because it was only natural for a monster to crave violence and gore. Remus shivered slightly as the fog got thicker, colder, damper. Maybe he’d get hypothermia or something. It would be slower than acid, but the thought didn’t really scare Remus. It was a little weird, now that he thought about it… he didn’t really feel scared, or angry, or sad. He just felt this weird mix of curious and guilty that seemed to balance itself out into apathetic tiredness. 

The mist continued to emerge, until it covered everything in his sight like a thick wooly blanket. If Remus squinted, he could just barely see the gray silhouettes of the trees looming over him… but that was all. Remus remembered that when Thomas was little, he used to imagine all the dark shapes and shadows in his room were fantastical creatures. But right now, he was so tired he couldn’t imagine them as anything other than little smudges on his vision. That probably meant he was running out of time. But of course, nothing was going to happen– he wasn’t a person, he was a thought, a bad thought, and he was going to fade away just like all thoughts do. And it probably wouldn’t be long now. 

Sometimes, Remus thought he heard things in the forest. A deep, unfamiliar voice calling for Creativity. A higher voice, broken up and echoey, asking for forgiveness. The sound of someone crying and trying to be quiet about it. They were probably figments of his imagination, just one last bored daydream, but even if they weren’t… 

Remus closed his eyes. Even if they weren’t, he wasn’t about to go chasing after other people to hurt. He was nothing but a monster. He deserved to be alone. 

_ And still it takes you ages _

_ To see that no one’s there _

_ See that no one’s there _

_ See that n o o n e’ s t h e r e _

_ Everyone’s gone on _

_ W i t h o u t  _

_ Y o u… _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading :)
> 
> ((i'm so sorry y'all))


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M BACK, BOISSS!!!  
seriously though, sorry this took so long to complete!!! life is kinda hard sometimes... but writing helps lots, you know??? anyway, the moment you all have been waiting for.... the final chapter!!!

_ Finally something _

_ Finally news _

_ About how the story ends _

_ She doesn’t exist now _

_ Survived by her son _

_ And all of her brand-new friends…. _

“Hello there, little one. I’ve been searching for you.” The voice was deep and rumbling, like the thunder of a faraway storm. It was close and loud enough to pull Remus back into consciousness, which was strange, because he didn’t remember falling asleep. Still, he was tired, so, so tired… 

“What are you doing all the way down here, hmm?” the voice continued. It sounded nice but unfamiliar. Curious, Remus cracked his eyes open. 

A black-hooded figure was towering above him, the white mist swirling in his wake. The figure himself seemed to be little more than a shadow, and the only features that Remus could make out were his glowing, purple eyes. 

“Are… are you Death?” Remus asked in a hoarse voice as he sat up to greet the stranger. All of his joints felt stiff, and he resisted the urge to stretch himself out. 

The figure chuckled a little bit, his cloak wavering like ink in water. “Quite the opposite, actually. But that’s not important right now. You are Creativity, yes?” 

Remus shook his head vigorously, curling up into a little ball. “N-no… no, I’m not. I’m not Creativity at all.”

Despite not having a discernible facial expression, the figure looked dubious. “Well then, what are you?”

“I’m…” Remus’ voice faltered. _ Don’t be stupid– you know what you are. You should warn this shadow man so that he can get away from you before you hurt him. _“...I’m a monster.”

“Ah, good. You’ll fit right in.” Ignoring Remus’s confusion, the figure crouched down so that he was at eye level with the young side. “Now, you’re coming with me,” He said, grabbing at Remus’ wrist with a cold, ink-colored hand.

“Wh– No I’m not!” Remus yelped, pulling away quickly. “No, I’m supposed to stay here so I don’t hurt anyone! You don’t understand!”

The figure seemed confused. “No, I don’t. If you stay here, you’re going to stop existing. And I really, really need you. So you’re coming with me.” 

“You– you can’t make me!” Remus stumbled to his feet, preparing to run away. 

The hooded figure sighed, the same irritated sound that adults made when a child was misbehaving, a sound Remus was getting incredibly tired of. “Oh, yes I can,” he said tersely. 

Remus was about to open his mouth in protest when the mist around him suddenly turned from white to black, and went from slightly cold to below freezing. The light seemed to leech from the world around him until the only thing Remus could see was the blindingly bright glow of the figure’s violet eyes. When they fixed on him in a horrible stare, Remus began to tremble. 

**“Do you know where you are?” **The figure’s echoey voice was horribly loud. Remus shook his head but found he couldn’t speak. His mouth felt as dry as bones in the desert, and his entire body was rattling. 

**“You are in Thomas’ subconscious. But far, far deeper down than any side has any right to be. In fact, so far deep that if you stay here any longer, you’ll probably drift away into the unconscious. Do you know what happens when a side goes into the unconscious?”**

Remus began to inhale and exhale rapidly as if his chest was possessed by an oxygen-loving demon. He couldn’t get himself to stop. The voice wasn’t even saying anything particularly horrible, but dread engulfed him nonetheless. 

**“Well, you’ll be gone. Forever. Thomas will have forgotten you completely. And then you’ll never be able to help him again. Do you really want that to happen?”**

Remus squeezed his eyes shut, still breathing so heavily he was afraid he’d exhale a lung. His head hurt, his stomach hurt,_ everything _hurt, and he just wanted it to stop… 

**“Do you want to help Thomas, or not?” ** The figure stood over him now once again, his stare piercing right through Remus like a dagger. And Remus wanted to help, he really did, all he ever wanted was to make Thomas laugh, but he _ couldn’t _. He couldn’t do anything, he couldn’t even speak. He was paralyzed, and afraid, and he was going to die, and all he could feel was ice-cold fear, and all he could see was the two bright lights… 

Remus was dimly aware of the figure coming towards him, gently scooping him up in smokey black arms. He instinctively wrapped his arms and legs around the figure, allowing him to support himself in surprisingly solid arms. Eventually, the shadow’s rhythmic movements and the gentle _ thump-thump _of his heartbeat calmed Remus down enough to open eyes he didn’t remember closing to look around. 

They weren’t in the garden anymore. In fact, they weren’t _ anywhere _anymore. Remus and the figure seemed to be in some sort of blindingly white void. The place buzzed with the same kind of electricity in Morality’s room. Silently, the young side wondered where they were going.

The shadow noticed Remus squirming and gave him a reassuring squeeze. “I’m sorry about scaring you, but it’s what I do best,” He murmured apologetically. “I’m Anxiety, by the way. Wish we could have met under better circumstances.”

“Remus,” The young side said softly. He had had a very emotionally taxing few days, and he didn’t quite have the energy for polite introductions. He was tired, confused, and absolutely clueless. Remus was getting a little sick of being clueless. So forgoing all of his manners, he asked Anxiety in a sharp voice “Where did you take me, exactly?”

“Well, we’re not really there yet. I can’t teleport like you or the others, so we have to take the long boring route through the subconscious if we want to get anywhere. That’s where we are right now.” Anxiety glanced around a bit, before adding in a slightly lower voice, “There’s still stuff in the subconscious, of course– like your garden– but most of the stuff down here tends to be pretty dangerous, so we’re avoiding it.”

Remus knew he was one of those dangerous things, and that he belonged in the subconscious– but after some deliberation, he selfishly decided to keep that information to himself. As much as he hated to admit it, he had been feeling better since he left the garden. So instead he decided to attempt to get some answers: “Ok then, where are you taking me? And back in the garden, you said you needed me? What was that about? Why are you so wispy? And what is Anxiety, anyway?” Remus blushed a bit once he was done with his questions– he hadn’t meant to ask so many, but they seemed to just pour out of him. 

“You sure are a curious little thing– you might want to keep that in check, actually, I’ve heard curiosity can be dangerous. But fortunately, I have no intention of hurting you. So anyway… I’m taking you back to the normal conscious of Thomas’ mind, to this one snake-looking side who’s been looking for you. I don’t know what he wants with you– I don’t really know anything about him, he was oddly secretive– but he told me that if I found you, you could help give me a solid form and such.”

Before Remus could ask what that meant, Anxiety continued: “I’m a really new side, you know? Our Thomas just started middle school, which I believe is what triggered me into existence. But for some reason, Thomas is having trouble visualizing me as an actual part of him, like the rest of his sides. Snake said it was something about how Thomas and that other Creativity refused to imagine me cause I’m a ‘bad side’? I’m not really sure what that means– like I said, I’m new here– but the snake also said that since you were also Creativity, you could help me out. Give me a shape. Let me actually make my presence known to Thomas, instead of just lurking at the edge of his consciousness like I’m forced to now.”

Remus gulped. “I don’t think I’ll be able to help you… I can’t even summon objects, I don’t know how I’m supposed to make a whole new side…”

Anxiety shrugged. “That’s just because you’re out of practice. Besides, it’s not all bad– my weird half-form is what let me go deep enough into the subconscious to rescue you, anyway. That’s what Anxiety is; I exist to protect Thomas from danger.”

“Isn’t that Logic’s job?”

Anxiety’s eyes narrowed. “Sometimes… but Logic can only see the problems right in front of him. He can't spot all of the potential dangers Thomas could face, and he certainly doesn't think fast enough to protect him. That’s where _ I _ come in. So you get why it’s important that I get an actual form, right?” 

Remus nodded, although he didn’t quite understand. At least Anxiety seemed nice. He was a protector. He may be scary, but he was really good! Remus remembered his Kraken puppet, and his bold claim that “_ Not all monsters are bad… _” 

Anxiety stopped walking, adjusting his grip on Remus so that he was staring at the young side directly in the face. “You look better,” he said softly, “But that’s not saying much. Why don’t you get some sleep, hmm? I’ll wake you up when we get out of this boring void.”

Remus sighed. On the one hand, he didn’t feel like sleeping when there was still so much he didn’t know, but on the other hand… Anxiety was right, he was so very tired… 

Remus’s eyelids drooped down against his will. He pretended that his eyelashes interlocked when he did so, that they twisted together in a way that made them impossible to open, so it wasn’t like he was _ trying _ to go to sleep, he simply had no choice but to keep his eyes closed….

Remus felt it when the two sides arrived at their destination. The electric currents of energy were strong here, stronger than Remus had ever felt them. It might have been that jolt that woke him up, or the gentle way Anxiety lowered him onto a strange soft surface or the harsh whispers that flitted through the air. But it didn’t matter, because his eyes were still sewn shut. Sleep felt so nice right now, and Remus wasn’t ready for it to be over. He felt something soft and silky fall over him. A blanket, probably. It felt nice. This felt nice. Sleep was nice. He should really do it more often… 

Someone familiar was standing over him. In the dim light, Remus couldn’t quite tell who it was, but there was something in the way they carried themself that struck a chord with the creative side. He sat up quickly to get a better view, before remembering he was supposed to be tired. But he was feeling a lot better now. 

The figure was in the middle of whispering something in a hushed, hissy voice– “_ –honestly think that’s going to work, you’re _insane–” before he noticed the younger side was sitting up. 

“You… you’re awake…” he breathed. “Oh, thank _ God. _” 

Despite everything, Remus began to smile. He knew that voice! “Hey there, Deceit!”

Deceit was Remus’s only friend, before the garden. He was the only side who appeared to Thomas as another kid instead of an adult (although he looked more like a teenager, whereas Remus was the only one representative of Thomas’s actual age). While the other two sides were always concerned with rules and regulations and something horrifying called “time management.” But Deceit was different! He never told Remus to do anything, and he seemed to revel in their mischievous behavior. Even if Morality didn’t seem to like him much… It was a little strange, actually, he hadn’t thought about Deceit or Logic much since going into the garden. But he didn’t want to think about the garden right now. 

Remus was a little shocked when the snake swooped down and tackled him with a six-armed hug– his lying friend wasn’t typically the affectionate type. “Oh! Uh, alrighty then? Jeez, how long was I asleep?”

“A couple of weeks,” A bitter voice grumbled from the back corner of the room. “To be precise, five weeks, two days, eight hours and twenty-three minutes. Not that I’m counting.” 

As Remus’s eyes adjusted to the darkness, he spotted Anxiety’s smokey form leaning against the opposite wall, his purple eyes narrowed into slits as he watched the display of affection. 

Anxiety’s presence triggered another tidal wave of unpleasant memories within Remus. The Creative side gently pried Deceit off of him. “Ok, so I’m really tired and confused and I honestly just need some answ– HOLY MOTHER OF MEDUSA, WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU?” Remus squeaked, cutting himself off. 

Deceit blinked his mismatched eyes– one a familiar brown, the other a searingly bright yellow. “Whatever do you mean?” 

“You– your face! It’s all weird and scaley!” Remus responded as the sarcasm soared over his head.

“Oh. That.” Deceit’s voice was stilted. “I’m trying out a new look. Nothing to concern yourself with.”

Deceit’s ‘new look’ was absolutely fascinating– A long cut ran across his cheek in a thin line, but instead of scabbing over it seemed to be _scaling _over, covering the left side of his face and creeping down his neck. 

“It looks so awesome!” Remus squeed, reaching out to touch the scar for himself.

Deceit swatted his hand away, although his angry expression couldn’t exactly hide his grin. “Yeah, I thought so too.”

Remus took a few more seconds to admire his friend’s face before Anxiety cleared his throat from the back of the room.

“Well, you seem well-rested,” The shadowy side said pointedly. “So perhaps we could move on to more pressing matters?”

Deceit hissed and turned around. “If you could just be patient–”

“Like I haven’t been patient for _years– _”

“–You still don’t know if he’s stable enough! Creating your vessel will take a lot out of him and if he’s not ready you could both be destroyed! But if you want to take that risk, by all means, Anxiety, go right ahead!”

Anxiety growled. “You told me he’d be able to help me immediately.”

“This may come as quite a shock to you, but I lie sometimes. Shocking, I’m aware–”

And then Remus screamed like a banshee, with such force that waves of energy eliminated off of him and ruffled the bedsheets he was sitting on. Deceit immediately slammed both hands over his ears as his face contorted into a pained grimace, and Remus even noticed Anxiety wince and curl up a bit smaller. 

Remus stopped after a couple of seconds, leaving the room completely silent. The two sides looked at him with wide, horrified eyes. 

“Sorry about that,” He said lightly. “I just wanted to get your attention.” 

“You were successful.” Anxiety deadpanned. “So what is it you want?”

“To know what’s going on!” Remus cried. “I’ve been trapped in a garden, my best friend just abandoned me, I found out my entire imprisonment was a lie, stabbed someone, and gotten kidnapped by a weird shadow person, and on top of all that I have to live with the fact that all these bad things are my fault because I’m hurting people but now you guys are telling me I can help and I’m just so confused!” 

Anxiety shrugged, looking a little uncomfortable. “Look, I told you everything I know already. Ask the snake over there.” The cloaked figure gestured vaguely towards Deceit with a wispy arm. 

Deceit gulped, looking down to avoid Remus’ hardened glare. “Look, Creativity– sorry, Remus, right? You know I can’t tell you all that information, it’s far too truthful.”

“But _ Deceit– _”

“However,” Deceit added, cutting Remus off with a raise of his hand. “I can tell you a story– completely fictional, of course– that may entertain you for a while.” 

Remus narrowed his eyes but nodded, and Deceit took a seat on the edge of the bed, leaning in slightly as though he was innocently delivering a bedtime story to a child. 

“Once upon a time… there was a young boy. And this young boy was extremely imaginative. He had tons of wonderful, vibrant, creative ideas. Some of these ideas were more… unique than others, darker and more mysterious and sometimes a little scary. But the child wasn’t afraid of his thoughts, because he was very brave. In fact, they thought they were just as beautiful as all of his other ideas, and he couldn’t wait to share them with the rest of his family. But his father… his father didn’t like the ideas at all. He thought they were evil, that they would only cause harm to anyone who heard them. But he cherished his son’s other ideas too much to simply ban him from speaking altogether, although I’m sure he wanted to. So, he came up with a plan. He went into the boy’s room in the middle of the night and rifled through all of his notebooks, quietly tearing out any of the pages that contained things that he liked– but leaving everything else. From these pages, the father could have all of the delightful stories he wanted, without having to worry about the so-called dangers of his son’s mind. But when the son woke up, he was horrified to find that half of his ideas were missing. He began to sob, a harsh and ugly sound that upset his father so much that he locked him away in the attic, where the pitiful noise and the horrible stories could never reach the rest of the family. I think you can, uh, infer the rest of the story, yes?”

Remus listened to Deceit’s story with a solemn sort of silence. It wasn’t a very good story, but by the end he was pretty sure he understood what had happened. “So… Morality wanted to separate the good stuff and the bad stuff, and he did… and then he locked me up, cause I was the bad stuff? He split me apart?”

Deceit nodded curtly. Anxiety visibly winced, and Remus began to shake. “But that means I was right… that means I really am the bad stuff. I should be l-locked up. I’m hurting everyone by being here.” His voice quivered. _ He was gonna go back– _

Deceit’s eyes narrowed. “You never hurt anyone, Remus.” 

“But I did! I– when I saw Morality again, he was crying, and there was a knife, and–”

“Remus, Morality is– regrettably– perfectly fine. He’s not real, remember? The only thing that knife did was unsettle him. He probably didn’t even feel pain.”

“And besides,” Anxiety added from the shadows, “He was trying to have Thomas forget you, yeah? So really it was just an act of self-defense. I would have done the same thing, if it helps.”

Remus felt hot tears sticking his eyes together. “Thomas should forget me. I’m– maybe I didn’t hurt Morality, but I know I could, and I probably will, and, and– and I know they hate me because I’m bad! I’m a monster!”

Deceit’s expression darkened, and his strange yellow eye glinted with rage. He put both of his gloved hands on Remus’ shoulders so that Remus was forced into meeting his gaze. “Listen to me, Creativity, because I’m only going to say this once. _ You are not the bad side. _ You are imaginative, and special, and brave, and the only reason you are down here is because society has decided you aren’t allowed because you sometimes make people feel a little uncomfortable. Morality is _ wrong _. You and your ideas have not, nor will ever, hurt anyone who doesn’t deserve it.”

Remus stood still for a second, absorbing the snake’s words. Then he sprung forward almost immediately, wrapping his arms around Deceit in a desperate embrace. He clung to his friend like his life depended on it, desperate to hang on to his kind words. After a moment of shocked stillness the snake somewhat awkwardly hugged him back. Remus squeezed tighter, burying his face in Deceit’s soft black cloak. For a cold-blooded animal, the snake was surprisingly warm… 

Eventually, though, the embrace was interrupted by a loud and somewhat awkward coughing noise from Anxiety. “I feel Thomas getting worried. And it has something to do with you, snake.”

Deceit growled in annoyance but gently lifted his arms off of Remus a. “Yeah, because no one else has _ ever _resisted a summon before– I swear, it’s not like I have more important things to attend to or anything…”

Remus forced himself to untangle his arms from Deceit’s torso, and the scaley side hopped off of the bed. “Where are you going?” Remus asked, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice.

Deceit sighed irritably. “The other sides want me for something– shocking, I know. I’ll be back as soon as I can, though.”

“What– what do they want you for?” 

“Oh, I’m sure they just wanted to say hello to everyone’s _ favorite _side and make sure I’m alright,” Deceit said smoothly, perfectly in time with Anxiety’s warning of “Morality probably found out you escaped and is gonna interrogate Deceit about it.”

“Anxiety!” Deceit snapped. 

Anxiety shrugged. “I mean, it’s probable that if Morality tried to kill the kid once, he’d want to try again, and you’re not exactly the least suspicious person around, Deceit–”

Deceit snapped his fingers, and Anxiety abruptly stopped talking. His shadowy silhouette quivered as Deceit began to lecture him: “Listen, I get that this is your job, or whatever, but please be a darling and try not to get Remus thinking about how the people he loved are actively trying to murder him, if that’s not too much to ask? Has this child not been through enough!?”

Anxiety made a muffled noise that sounded like a retort, but Deceit quickly regained his composure and kept talking. “Unless, of course, this is your way of saying you’d rather not have Remus’ help in gaining a physical form… if that is the case, do go on.”

Anxiety was silent, and Deceit took this as a surrender. “Excellent,” He said, lowering his hand. “Now, I have to leave– it would be such a shame to keep the other sides waiting–”

Remus made a pained noise deep in his throat. He knew Deceit would come back for him; why would he go through the trouble of a rescue if he didn’t care? Then again, he had known Morality was going to come back too… and he wasn’t sure he could

Deceit winced, his hand hovering over the door’s handle at the other side of the room. “The others are getting very anxious… You might want to hurry,” said Anxiety. 

Deceit slowly lowered his hand. “Yes. Exactly. That is definitely the priority right now.” He stole a quick glance back at Remus, who was slowly curling himself up into a tight ball on the bed. 

“If you don’t go,” Anxiety threatened. “They’re going to get suspicious.”

“Because showing up will completely evaporate their suspicion. You know, because of my inherently trustworthy nature.” Deceit was already turning back around, making his way towards the little side huddled on the bed. 

Anxiety sighed. “I figured,” he sighed, sounding defeated. “I’m gonna try to run damage control, I guess. They won’t be able to see me, but maybe I can spook them into submission or something with my energy.” With a shadowy, sarcastic salute, Anxiety swirled into the shadows and disappeared. 

Deceit made his way back to Remus and placed a hand on the other side’s shoulder. “I’m sure nothing disastrous will happen if I stay a little while longer,” He said, adding a fabricated certainty to his voice. 

“You’re– you’re not gonna leave?” Remus stammered.

“I couldn’t if I wanted to.” Deceit slid back on top of the bed, and Remus immediately locked him in a grip as tight as a tourniquet. Deceit tried his best to comfort the kid, tracing his arms in slow circles across his back. Eventually, his breathing slowed. 

“T-thanks for staying. I’m sorry I keep doing this.”

Deceit scoffed. “You shouldn’t have to apologize for needing affection. I only hope I’m doing an adequate job of providing it, considering the tons of experience I have in this field.” 

Remus thought for a moment. “Maybe you should have six arms. It would make you a better hugger,” He said, sounding completely serious. 

Deceit smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

The two sat still for a few more minutes until Deceit broke the silence with a quick question. “Do you… do you want to talk about what’s bothering you, Remus? I doubt it will help, but still… if you need someone to listen to you, I’m here.”

Remus shook his head. “It just feels like… like my entire mind is a big bunch of brambles and thorny vines and stuff. And I don’t want to untangle all of it bit by bit, cause I’ve been trying to do that but it isn’t working. I just want to burn it all to the ground. Does that make sense?”

“Yes… I, ah, think I can relate to how you feel.” 

“I just… back in the garden, when I was really alone, I was thinking some really bad things. Worse than usual. It was scary. And I was alone. I just don’t want to be alone again.” 

Deceit squeezed Remus a little tighter. He had already deduced that Remus, being the less savory side of creativity, didn’t scare easily. Whatever had happened in that garden must have been really bad. Deceit had already detested Morality before, but now? Now he was sure he was never going back under that side’s control. “In that case,” the serpent hissed softly in Remus’s ear, “I’ll stay here forever. Or as long as you need, at least.” 

“Even if I start thinking bad thoughts?” Remus asked, his voice small but hopeful. 

“You don’t have bad thoughts, Remus. Every idea is special and worth exploring. But even if you did… no, I wouldn’t ever leave your side.” The truth was hard for the snake to get out, but the light in the smaller side’s eyes made it all worth it. 

Despite himself, Remus began to smile. He wasn’t sure if he believed Deceit just yet. Maybe he’d never really get over his fears. Maybe he’d get abandoned again. Maybe he’d be trapped again. Maybe Thomas would never know his name, and he would dissolve away into nothing all the same. But those things were far from certainties, and Remus clung to that. He was here. He was alive. He had ideas. And someone cared about him. That was more than enough for now.

Remus held Deceit tight, reveling in the fact that he wasn't alone.

  
  


_ Isn’t that lovely? _

_ And isn’t that cool? _

_ And isn’t that cruel _

_ And aren’t I a fool _

_ To have _

_ Happily listened _

_ Happy to stay _

_ Happily watching her _

_ D r i f t A w a y _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i couldn't resist making it fluffy..... ah well, trash boy deserves happiness.  
ANYWHO, I hope you enjoyed Here In The Garden!!! This was my first time writing angst, and my second time writing something with multi-chapters, and..... well, it was exhausting, but i had a great time. There's still a lot of stuff I didn't get to say about this au and u!Patton in general... so i may make an epilogue chapter and/or side story eventually >:3. however, right now I'm gonna take a break and write some fluffy roceit one-shots, cause that's what makes my heart happy.  
I'm also gonna create and attempt to maintain a writing sideblog on tumblr!!! it's @scribble-sphinx if you are interested even though it will probably just be me complaining about having no author juice but please feel free to like,,,, send me asks or whatever. I don't know.  
ANYWAY thank you so much for reading!!!! y'all are the best!!!!!  
-Sphinx  
(P. S: i'm going by sphinx now cause i wanted my tumblr name and ao3 name to be the same uwu)


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